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I am in a K-Mart in the middle of summer and I am trying to love you more. You are helping me pick out towels but everything you’re saying to me sounds like static and I wish I could just leave you there right in the middle of the store but I don’t because I know better than to do that to someone I see naked on a semi-regular basis. My skin is sticky, I am wearing swim trunks out in public because it’s too hot to wear anything else and, although it’s hard to explain how or why, I feel young. My legs feel young. My spine feels young. My face feels young. And this is how I know I am going to outgrow you. This is how I know I am never going to be able to love you more. Because I am too young to be this…